The West End of Reasonable
by Gusha
Summary: The daughter of Prof. Snape's former potions class lab partner comes to Hogwarts. Note: this is not a romance.
1. Muggle mail by way of Owl Post

Disclaimer: Just in case you were wondering, I do not own anything about the Harry Potter Universe. All I can lay claim to is this particular arrangement of letters into words in some approximation of coherence.  
*********  
  
Gwylan Pyrene looked around the Hufflepuff table, watching, almost sadly, as her classmates read the days post. She turned back to her newspapers. She had two delivered daily; The Daily Prophet and the London printing of The Salem Gazette. Neither was quite like what she would have read at home, but oh well. Every Wednesday she also got an imported copy of the previous Friday's Wall Street Journal just for fun.   
At home, in upstate New York, her mother, a Muggle artisan, read the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal and a collection of artistic magazines. Her father, a wizard, read the Salem Gazette (American printing) the Wizarding Times and several magic related trade journals. Gwylan herself read parts of most of them and all of the comics.  
Her parents had warned her that letters would be few and far between. First they had to be sent across the Atlantic by Muggle mail, which took up to two weeks. Then they had to be flown by owl post from an address in London to Hogwarts. Still, it was the beginning of October and she still had not heard from her parents at all.   
She set her Gazette back down and qualified her mental comment.   
Well, there was that personal ad that her mother had placed in the Salem Gazette for the day after term started.   
  
Muggle mother wishes daughter  
best luck at school. Love, smiles,  
and don't forget to breathe.  
  
That had cheered her up and made her homesick all at once. She could almost hear her mother saying the words.   
Gwylan had just forced her attention back to an article about recent a ministry study when loud gasps from her classmates caused her to look up again.  
There was a late delivery. Two large owls were clutching an enormous parcel between them. The detail that was drawing attention was the appearance of the box. This was not the usual brown paper wrapped bundle. It was mostly white with words on the side. As it swiftly came closer, Gwylan could suddenly make out the name of an American parcel service.   
She stared, astonished as the parcel came to rest on the table directly in front of her. The tired owls rested a moment, breathing audibly, before winging away once again.   
Gwylan shook her head in disbelief. A package like this one would cost a fortune to ship from New York to London. Surely it was not for her.  
"Who is it for?" Liza asked from down the table.   
Gwylan stood to get a clear look at the label. "Me." She said faintly.  
"Well, open it, then." Ansel demanded from across the table.   
Gwylan nodded. She used her table knife to slice through first the twine the owls had used to carry it, and then the packing tape that sealed it shut. A few packing peanuts escaped as she quickly opened the flaps.   
The first thing buried in the peanuts was a heavy ceramic bowl enclosed in bubble wrap. She set it carefully on the table to unwrap it. She recognized it immediately as her mother's work, along with her father's magical influence. Taped to the inside of the bowl was a letter. She sat down to read it.  
  
Darling Daughter,   
We hope you are settling in well. Your mother wanted you to have this as soon as it was finished. We started working on it as soon as you left. She threw it. I carved the runes, inside and out. You know the basic glazing, potion incorporating procedure. The result is this…voila… your very own magical video-telephone. Just say the enclosed magic words and you can talk to home anytime you wish. (Please remember the time difference.)  
Since we were paying huge fees to send this to you anyway, we decided to spend a bit more and send you a few goodies as well.   
Enjoy.  
One more thing, there is also a letter and a small package for one of your professors, Severus Snape, who I knew in school. Please give it to him in private, preferably in his own office.  
Your mother and I love you very much. We wish you all the best. Talk to you soon.  
Your loving father,  
Flavius Pyrene  
  
Gwylan looked up, tears in her eyes.  
"From your parents?" Liza asked.  
"Yes, of course." Gwylan swallowed. "All the way from Deerfield, New York." She rummaged through the peanuts and pulled out a collection of American candies, a beaded necklace, (also her mother's work) two science fiction novels and the small parcel for Professor Snape. She slipped the package into a pocket of her robes and piled the rest into the bowl.  
"What are these?" Ansel asked, poking at the packing materials.  
"Packing peanuts and bubble wrap. Muggles use them to keep things from breaking. You can pop the bubbles like this." She demonstrated. "Such a satisfying sound."  
"Weird." Ansel said, now eyeing it suspiciously. "Why didn't your father bespell it to not rattle around?"  
"In case it was opened in customs, most likely." Gwylan mused. "I don't think it was, though. The tape was still sealed."   
She looked up; the once crowded breakfast tables had cleared considerably.  
"I should probably take this upstairs. I think I have time before class." 


	2. An old ? friend?

Once again, I do not own Harry Potter or Severus Snape or Hogwarts or anything else in this story. Well except for anything you do not recognize as the work of JK Rowling. Which might include a few characters and the general lack of plot.  
  
******  
Severus Snape was determined to spend the evening in quiet isolation. He had ordered his dinner from the kitchen. His classes were over for the day and he was not assigned corridor watch until nearly dawn.  
He most especially was not going to think about James Potter's insolent-brat-of-a-famous-son.   
Snape opened the book he was studying. He soon immersed himself in the intricacies of potions. It was incredible how a dozen different procedures could yield the same results. Conversely, it was fascinating how sometimes changing one ingredient in the slightest way could warp the results into something else entirely.  
His meal had appeared unnoticed, and he was almost to the section of the book that he most wanted to review—drat Longbottom anyway—when there was a timid knock on the door.  
Snape looked up, scowling. For a moment he considered pretending he was not there. It was his night off, after all. Oh, why hadn't he gone up to London after gillyweed or some such thing?  
The knock sounded again, firmer this time.  
"Yes?" Snape bit out. "Who is it?"  
The door opened slowly and the head of a Hufflepuff first year appeared.  
"Professor?" A girl asked quietly.   
"Yes, come in." Snape said with a sigh. "What can I do for you Miss Pyrene?"  
"I was just wondering if you could recommend a book on potion ingredients for me." She spoke hurriedly, as if fearing interruption. "I have been reading through Magical Drafts and Potions. Some of the formulas are just like the ones in the book my father uses, and some of them have one or two different components." She drew in a deep breath then continued. "I was just curious what specific characteristics of those particular ingredients allow them to substitute for each other in those spells and not in others." The girl stopped there and adjusted her glasses.  
"I see." Snape drawled. "Well, there are a few titles I can recommend." He scrawled on a scrap of parchment. "These should be in the library." He paused before handing it to her. "They are a bit advanced for a first-year. Most students do not make the connection that similar ingredients can occasionally be substituted. It can be very dangerous."  
The girl rubbed her chin. There was a small, irregular burn scar there. Snape would not have noticed it if she had not touched it.  
"I have learned that lesson firsthand, sir." She said with the firm assurance of a much older person. "Magical laws are a bit different in the US. I have brewed many potions, most of them very simple. I have been apprenticed to my father practically since I could walk."  
"Pyrene?" Snape said thoughtfully. "Not Flavius Pyrene?"  
"Yes, sir. He said he knew you." She colored and pulled a small parcel out of her robes. "Actually he asked me to give this to you. It arrived this morning in a larger parcel."  
Snape took it and opened the letter first.  
  
Severus,  
I do hope that you remember me fondly, in spite of the argument we had when last we spoke. I have been living quietly in America with my wife, Rowena, who you know, and our daughter, Gwylan, who you have met by now. We have tried to raise her in both magical and muggle worlds. (which I know you do not approve of)  
I have sent you something that I think you might enjoy. Take care that you do not give my daughter any favoritism or hardships for my sake. I have sent her away because I do not think I can teach her further without prejudice.  
Once your friend,  
Flavius Pyrene  
  
Snape folded the paper and replaced it in its envelope. Then he opened the little package. It was a small, leather bound book entitled Magical Potions of the Ancient Mayans by Flavius Pyrene. Snape tossed the wrappings into his fire where they turned the flames blue.  
"Thank you, Miss Pyrene, you may go." He scrawled one more title onto the parchment before handing it to her. The girl left quickly.  
Snape smiled when she had gone. An actual, genuine smile.  
Flavius.  
They might have been friends, almost. Signs pointed more towards them having been mortal enemies. They had been forced to sit next to each other in potions for several years. Their professor had been so fed up with the antics of Potter and his gang that he assigned permanent seats that separated all housemates from each other. He and Flavius had been lab partners ever since. They were forced to cooperate on all manner of assignments inside and outside of class. Throughout school Snape would have said they loathed each other.  
It was Flavius who had stirred his love for potions. Flavius could tell you the exact properties of any spell component. It was tough to keep up with him sometimes.   
Flavius had sent his daughter to him to teach. It felt unreal. Snape felt deeply honored.  
Snape thought back to the last time he had seen Flavius. It was a few years after they had graduated. They had argued terribly. About Lord Voldemort and about Rowena, Flavius' muggle fiancée.   
"Severus, is that you?" Snape's fire suddenly asked.  
"Yes, Flavius." Snape answered wearily. "I'm here."  
"Hah! I thought you would throw the wrapper into the fire. Habits, old boy, habits." Flavius's head chuckled merrily from among the flames. "So, can you forgive me, Severus?"  
"For what?" Snape drawled wryly "For being right or for marrying Rowena?"  
"Both, either, for not being more of a friend." The head in the flames shook sadly. "I followed your trial from our hiding place in America. I suppose I should have gotten in touch then, but…"  
"We both said unforgivable things that night." Snape broke in. "It is better not to dwell on them. How is Rowena?"  
"She is doing very well. We make a good match, she and I. How about our little Gwylan? Not a bad kid, eh? I have taught her a lot of potion theory, and only a little of the practical. She seems to have the knack for it."  
"We'll see about that." Snape growled good naturedly. "Sometimes too much theory can be a bad thing. I will keep an eye on her."  
"Thank you, Severus. I have regretted our argument over the years."  
"I was supposed to kill you that night and Rowena too." Snape said suddenly. "I could not do it."  
Flavius drew in a deep breath. "Perhaps we could be friends again."  
"Were we ever friends, Flavius?" Snape asked almost wistfully.   
"Perhaps, Severus, perhaps. I have certainly missed our discussions." Flavius turned as if listening to someone else. "I have to go. I have linked our fires if you would like to chat again." Flavius grinned. "Bye."  
The face in the fire disappeared with a pop.  
Snape sat back in his chair, his research forgotten. Had he and Flavius been friends? It was an interesting question. Flavius seemed to think they had been. They had studied together, but throughout school they had maintained a façade of hatred and rivalry.   
Snape thought that perhaps Flavius understood him. At least as well as anyone ever had. Well, except for Dumbledore.  
Snape touched the book that Flavius had sent him. He flipped through it chuckling. They had discussed this sort of thing while they were in school. The possibilities of making potions using plants that grew only in the Americas. 


	3. Calling home

Disclaimer: While I admit to some possible ownership of Gwylan, her parents and several of her friends, most of this stuff belongs to J. K. Rowling. All praise and glory to her…  
  
*******  
Gwylan clutched the parchment in her hand as she hurried to the library. It had taken more than a little courage to go through with all of that. Snape did not seem so bad after all. Gruff, aloof, yes, but not evil precisely.   
Gwylan glanced around the library as she entered. Harry Potter and his friends were studying furiously behind a large pile of books. There was a scattering of older students here and there.  
She consulted her list and gathered the books. The librarian raised her brows at Gwylan's choice of reading material, but did not comment when she caught sight of Professor Sanpe's note.  
Gwylan hurried back towards her dormitory, her mind on the bowl waiting on her bed.   
She met Marcia, one of her roommates, just as she rounded the corner to their common room.   
"Hey, Gwylan, what is all that?" She laughed. "A bit of heavy reading?"  
"Just some books Professor Snape recommended to me." Gwylan responded, shifting the books in her arms.  
"Oh, you poor dear," Marcia grimaced. "Is he picking on you?" The two girls continued into their common room.   
"Not quite," Gwylan grinned. "I asked for them." She set the books on a table at the side of the room with a sigh.  
"Oh…" the other girl said, eyes widening. "I was looking for you. Do you remember the page numbers Professor Flitwick assigned? I thought I wrote them down, but I can not find the parchment anywhere."  
Gwylan dug into the pocket of her robes and came up with a small spiral bound colander. She flipped it open and read off the page numbers.   
"What is that thing?" Marcia asked.   
Gwylan looked at the book in mild surprise. "Just a weekly planner. I have used one for years."  
"Oh, is that an American thing?"  
"More of a muggle thing, I think." Gwylan replied. "But it keeps me organized." She pulled a pen from the spiral binding and marked off 'speak w/ P. Snape' on the page.  
"Is that a muggle quill?" Marcia asked, wide eyed.  
"Yeah, another one of my muggle artifacts. Father bespelled it to never to break and never run out of ink. Useful, really. I do not need to open an ink bottle in the halls."  
Marcia shook her head in wonder.   
"I need to get these put away," Gwylan said, picking the books up again. "I will see you in a bit."  
Gwylan slipped upstairs. The dormitory was empty. She dumped her books on her bed and placed the ceramic bowl on the bare floor. She took out her wand and said the first word from the post script. The bowl filled with blue flames. She said the second word and after a few moments her father's face suddenly filled the flames.   
"Gwylan!" He said. "Rowena, come quickly, its Gwylan."  
Her father's head became smaller as it was joined by her mother's.  
"How are you, darling?" Her mother asked. "I couldn't finish a letter without mentioning the bowl, and I wanted it to be a surprise, so none of the letters made it to the post."  
"I have missed you." Gwylan said, her eyes misty.   
"Oh, we have missed you too." Her father said. His hand appeared, clutching a fistful of papers. "Here are your mother's letters. A few of my own too."  
Gwylan took the sheaf of papers from him. They spoke for a while before Gwylan remembered her homework and promised to talk again the next day. 


	4. Regarding Frogs

Disclaimer: Nothing belonging to the Harry Potter world belongs to me. Things you do not recognnize might...  
  
*****  
Snape pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and leaned his elbows on the desk in his private office.  
  
Why?  
  
Why did they do things like that? Were they out to get him or did the Weasley twins really disrupt everyone's classes so dangerously?  
  
Without seeming to know or care, those two had come very close to permanently injuring someone today. There were specific reasons why dung bombs were especially prohibited in his classroom. The smell was secondary…  
  
If someone had already added their infusion of spiny-quill to their potion… If a piece of that accursed shrapnel had ended up in that particular cauldron… Well, the splatter would have burned a hole right through the unlucky person, causing permanent injury or death.  
  
Detention was not enough, Snape decided suddenly. Perhaps an essay on the components of those nasty things in comparison to today's potion. Full marks only if they realize what they could have done.  
  
He took a deep breath. Luckily it had been too early in the class for a real disaster. The day's work was totally ruined, of course. It was too dangerous to continue with the noxious vapors permeating the room.  
  
He sat back in his chair; eyes still closed and let his arms go limp at his sides.   
  
Breathe, relax, you have class in ten minutes. He went over the planned lesson in his mind. First Years. Yes, he did not need to change his plans. A mild wart removal potion should not be affected by the dung bomb residue. The smell would have faded by now, but many advanced potions would still be sensitive to it.  
  
It was really a good thing that it was first years next; a double period with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. He groaned aloud. Hufflepuff, Flavius' girl. He shook his head, refusing to be sidetracked.  
  
The worst thing that could go wrong with this potion was a minor puff of an explosion. Even that did not ruin it. It took dedication and skill to mess this one up.  
  
He stood and shrugged his shoulders to loosen them.  
  
Time to get moving.  
  
*****  
Gwylan set out her potion things with precision, arranging them as her father would have expected.  
  
"Did you hear, Gwylan?" Ansel asked as he sat next to her "An upperclassman set off a dung bomb last period. I was afraid the room would still smell."  
  
"What? In here?" She looked up in alarm. "That can be very dangerous. What were they making?"  
  
"I donno." Ansel replied, shrugging. "I thought dung bombs were mostly harmless smell."  
  
"Most of the time, yes." Gwylan agreed, rubbing the scar on her chin. "But not around other potions. Someone could have been hurt."  
  
Conversations died as Snape thundered into the dungeon.   
  
"Today we will work on a very simple potion for removing warts."  
  
Gwylan studied his face for signs of strain. She decided he definitely looked worse for wear. There were fine tension lines around his mouth.  
  
"If you will all open your books to page twenty four, you may begin assembling your ingredients.  
  
Snape sat impassively at his desk while the students found the recipe and began their preparations.  
  
Gwylan laid out her ingredients in order. Dried garlic, pickled gooseberry leaves, fish bile, frog's eyes, and a single, expensive Albanian toadstool.  
  
"If you have all read the directions." Snape said suddenly, "And selected your ingredients, can someone please tell me /why/ you should not disturb your cauldron for fifteen minutes after adding the frog's eyes?" His eyes flashed as he scanned the room.  
  
Gwylan touched her scar before raising her hand.  
  
"Yes, Miss Pyrene?"  
  
"The frog's eyes need time to react with the gooseberry leaves, or they will cause an explosion." Gwylan said nervously.  
  
"Yes, indeed. Five points for Hufflepuff. The book, unfortunately, does not contain that information. It just says to let the potion rest." He paused for effect. "While an explosion would not harm your potion, rest assured it would harm your grade should one occur. You may proceed. First remove the garlic clove from its papery shell. Cut it in half to be sure it is completely dried. Then crush it to powder."  
  
Gwylan grinned down at her garlic. Five points. So much for the rumor that Snape only gave points to his own house.   
  
There was only one small explosion that period. A Ravenclaw boy in the back of the room knocked into his desk five minutes after they had all added their carefully chopped fish eyes. Gwylan looked up just in time to see Snape jump with what looked like real alarm. It quickly twisted into a mocking sneer.  
  
"You were warned, Mr. Harris." He drawled. "Five points from Ravenclaw." He paused to make a mark on what she assumed must be the grade sheet.  
  
"All of you, write me an essay on the volatility of gooseberry leaves, due next class." He glared at them. "Short and concise; Twelve inches should do it, but complete."  
  
The class groaned and the boy hid his blush behind his textbook.   
  
*****  
In her dorm room that night, Gwylan set her scrying bowl on the floor. She cast the flame charm and then the communication spell.   
  
Her father's face appeared in the flames.  
  
"Hi Dad." She smiled.  
  
"Hi, Pumpkin. School treating you well?" He asked jovially.   
  
"Well enough." They chatted for a few minutes before she asked. "Can you tell me anything about gooseberry leaves?"  
  
"Severus has you making wart remover, hasn't he."  
  
"Yes," she said wryly. "We have an essay due."  
  
"Naturally. Well, the best source is the big gray book I gave you before you left. However, the thin green one makes some interesting points as well." He paused. "Oh, and the explosion is immediate and fierce if you use the eyes of the South American tree frog. Do you remember that experiment?"  
  
"Yeah, Mum was really mad. Thanks, Dad."  
  
"Anytime, sweetie. Your mom sends her love." He smiled. "And this." He reached through the fire to hand her a small parcel. "Bye now."  
  
The parcel was wrapped in cloth and tied with a bit of string. She opened it curiously. Inside was a stack of homemade chocolate chip cookies.  
  
She smiled. She missed her mother. She retrieved the books her father had mentioned. She took them to the common room where her friends were waiting for her to help them research.  
  
*****  
Snape was not surprised that every Hufflepuff student had used every piece of information that Miss Pyrene could find for them. However, careful comparison showed that they had more in common with the four source books that each cited than with each other. Their official text, one he had recommended to her and two he recognized as books he had used as a student. That showed her father's influence.   
  
Understandably, the Ravenclaw efforts were consistently inferior.  
  
Snape snorted. Ah, cooperation, one of the trademarks of the Hufflepuffs.  
  
He picked up the last, and longest, essay; Miss Pyrene's own effort. He spread out the roll and anchored it with weights. Twice as long as specified. Interesting.  
  
He began reading. It was the same information, but with a N.E.W.T. level analysis of the information.   
  
Snape shook his head. He did not think he could have done better. So much for the theory that her paper was one more undeclared source for the rest of them. He doubted most of them would understand the more involved parts of it.  
  
He got to the end and read her comments about the South American tree frog. He let out an odd, choking laugh. Incredible.  
  
Snape glanced down at her citations. She credited the same four sources as the others, plus the other two books he had recommended and the final line, 'F. Pyrene. Private conversation."  
  
He finished the essay without marking a single error. He shook his head again and stood. He crossed to the fireplace and took a small pinch of powder from a jar on the mantle. He threw it into the flames.  
  
"Flavius, if you have a moment?" He said, wearily.  
  
"Ah, Severus, how are you?" Flavius grinned from the flames.  
  
"Talk to me about South American tree frogs, if you please." Snape said wryly, returning to his chair.  
  
"Ah, she used that in her essay, did she?" Flavius laughed. "I thought she might. It is true, of course. One of the biggest explosions I have ever made." He grinned broadly and Severus was reminded of the little boy he had been so long ago.   
Snape cleared his throat to cover a grin. "Did your analysis of the unknown component suggest that it might cause such a reaction?"  
  
"No, not at all. So I went ahead and tried it. What a bang!" His grin faded a bit. "Rowena came running, of course. When she saw I was not hurt she beat me around the shoulders with the rolling pin she had been using." Flavius shrugged.  
  
"Was Gwylan there?" Snape asked.  
  
"No. It was a good thing, too. The force of it cracked the cauldron in two." He paused. "How is Gwylan doing?"  
  
"Fine in my class. I may start assigning her extra work. She is so far in advance of her year." Snape sighed. "I already recommended some books for her. I hesitate to recommend advancing her out of her grade level…"  
  
"We, her mother and I, would rather avoid that. She needs the social aspects of classes with her year mates." Flavius said.  
  
"She and her housemates are definitely social. They all wrote their essays from the same sources, including two of your books. I believe she may have led a discussion of the information, making sure they all understood it. There does not seem to be any cheating because no two are exactly alike. Then she went on to write this." Snape held up her essay. "The blasted thing belongs in a book itself."  
  
Flavius chuckled. "That's my girl." He sobered quickly. "That's the problem too. I want her to be a little girl for now. She can grow up and write books in due time." He grimaced. "I think I made a mistake apprenticing her so young."  
  
"Very well. I will not assign her formal extra work. I will just let drop interesting topics and bits of information during her classes." Snape tapped his fingers on top of his desk.  
  
"Good." Flavius affirmed. "That is how I usually assigned her topics. She is likely to pick up information that way."  
  
Snape nodded. "That way if she is interested she can pursue them. If not, there will be no pressure. She can goof off with her friends" He grimaced. "Or pay attention to her other studies." Snape sat back in his chair. "This should be an interesting year."  
  
"I hope so," Flavius agreed. "Oh, by the way, I have something for you." His hand appeared in the fire, and in it…   
  
"South American tree frogs?" Snape asked, taking the jar.  
  
"Whole, preserved in brine." Agreed Flavius, nodding. "Have fun." He popped out, leaving a bemused Snape holding a large jar of small frogs and a thick roll of parchment.  
He shook his head, opening the roll. It was a copy of Flavius' analysis and lab notes. Just in case he ever wanted to make something go boom?  
  
Some days that sounded like a really good idea.  
  
*****  
Gwylan looked at the note on top of her essay one more time. "Please copy this for my records. Excellent Work."  
  
Professor Snape had returned their essays just as they were leaving, so she had not looked at it until she was in the hall.  
  
Liza, Marcia and Ansel suddenly noticed that she had lagged behind.  
  
"What is it?" Ansel asked. "You don't want to be late for McGonagall."  
  
Gwylan let the parchment roll up again and hurried to join her friends.   
  
"What's wrong?" Liza repeated Ansel's query.  
  
"Nothing is wrong, exactly. Just not quite what I expected."  
  
"Did he take loads of points off?" Ansel asked. "I told you not to make it so long."  
  
"No. This is the only mark on it." She reluctantly showed them. They all stopped to get a good look.  
  
"Oh, wow." Marcia breathed. "That may be a school record. Snape keeping student work for reference."  
  
"Too weird." Ansel agreed.  
  
"Never mind." Gwylan said. "What do you think we will be transfiguring today? Thumbtacks into cotton balls?"  
  
Her friends followed her hint and let the subject drop.  
*****  
I would like to thank Elfmoon87 for reviewing. More reviews please... 


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